


The Nature of Obsession

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Betrayal, Loss of Trust, M/M, Obsession, Oral Sex, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 05:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15284364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: There's an infection inside him, and there's no cure.





	The Nature of Obsession

In the beginning it wasn't much. Just a glimpse of something. A spark of something rare under the skin, something Billy tried to ignore, but couldn't. Silver wasn't anything to desire, and yet he made himself into a creation, shifting shape right in front of Billy as need be, effortlessly like smoke.

The seeds of that creation took root that day, and maybe later down the road, they were what Billy turned to in the storytelling of one Long John Silver. But that's a story for another day.

This is a story of how John Silver wound his way around Billy's heart and mind, persistent and pervasive as an infection, spreading through his veins, seeping into his blood. There were mornings that Billy thought he would wake to find permanent signs of the man tattooed on his skin, blossoming as open sores as a sign of the plague upon him. 

There is nothing. He is as blank and unmarked as the day he was born. It's almost as though Silver's never touched him, never leaned over him with that crooked grin, never pressed his body into Billy's until Billy can't breathe. He'd done such a good job defending himself from Flint; he never saw the attack from Silver coming.

In the beginning Silver's need to make a place for himself in the crew had been so evident, so open to the eye, it had made Billy cringe. He'd wanted to tell Silver he needed to learn to hide it better, but caught back the words in time. Who was he to tell a man such a thing? Flint? Surely not. 

So he lets Silver walk his own path, and slowly he realizes that Silver knows what he's doing, he's just feeling his way as he goes along, trying all the avenues before he decides which one to choose. It should worry Billy but mostly he's just glad Silver's not that naive, that he won't have to protect him, to decide whether to protect him or not. He doesn't want to protect Silver. 

Still, he can feel it creeping into his bloodstream, coiling into his gut, that sly grin of Silver's, the way his curls get caught in the wind, tangling around his face. Billy hasn't had an urge to touch someone in a long time, but there are moments when he wants something with Silver. 

And the more Silver winds his way into the crew, the more he shows that he is one of them, the more he regards Flint with natural suspicion and wary respect, the more Billy yearns for that something. He needs someone to join him in his guard against Flint, because it would be so easy to fall under Flint's spell. He knows how easy it would be, a touch of Flint's hand on your arm, the way he listens, the way he carries himself, the way he lies so simply, it sounds like the truth coming from his lips. All of this is just his manner. And his manner is not to be trusted. 

He doesn't trust Flint all through his time in the water, and his time on the beach in the burning sun. He hopes Silver guards himself; he hopes Silver knows better by now than to trust Flint's tongue.

 

*  *  *

 

So when he wakes in that tent to find Silver watching him, Billy thinks, for the first time he's safe. That now he can rest.

It doesn't take long for him to realize he's wrong.

There's a heaviness in Billy's chest, as he goes to bathe afterwards, after Silver's unchained him. After Flint had taken him into his welcoming embrace, and told Billy he was glad he was back. He lets his sand encrusted clothes fall to the floor and scoops up a handful of water to splash over his face. He washes himself with slow movements, taking his time. His entire body aches, his bones feel a hundred years old. He wonders what would happen if he lies on the cot they’ve left for him and just goes to sleep forever.

There's a cough behind him and he whirls, water dripping down his face, trickling down his bare torso to find Silver standing the awkwardly, a pile of clean clothes in his hands. 

"Thought you might want some fresh clothes.” 

"Are you with him?" Billy finds the question too quick on his tongue, but he has to know. Is Silver really Flint's right hand man now? Can he actually, possibly, inconceivably, trust Flint? Surely it's impossible. Billy refuses to believe it. Maybe he's even still tied on that beach and he's hallucinating, driven mad by the sun, his tongue still swollen in his mouth. That seems far more likely than Silver trusting Flint.

There's a quick tilt to Silver's head, a consideration that he's thinking of what to say, how to answer Billy, before he does, and it makes Billy's chest hurt, to see Silver taking that care with him.

"He's going to get us the gold." Silver steps closer to him. "Billy, you have to understand how it was with you gone."

"No," Billy reaches out and grabs his arm. "I don't have to understand it. Explain it to me."

Silver looks down at the hand on him, and then up at Billy. "All right, let me explain." He slowly kneels and Billy stares at him. "Let me." Silver repeats, reaching for Billy's bare hips, and holds him. His hands steady themselves on Billy's hips as he leans in, to slowly mouth at him. 

Billy draws in a breath as Silver sucks him. It's not what he was expecting; he's not sure what to make of it. But Silver's confidence grows, his motions grow more sure of himself and Billy finds his resolve weakening. It has been so long since he first saw Silver, since he first hoped for that something with him, and now here they are. Silver's warmth drawing him, Silver's tongue promising more reassurance, trust me,  _let me, want me, trust me._

Billy doesn't close his eyes, he watches Silver swallow his release, feels his cock spend and go quietly limp upon Silver's tongue. He watches himself slip out of Silver's mouth and watches Silver look up at him with hopeful eyes.

"You have to trust me." Silver whispers, pressing himself into Billy's skin. "He won't get to me."

"I wish I could believe that." Billy whispers back. But how can he know for sure? Time will tell. In the end that's all he knows. In the end, Flint has wedged his way between them, splintering what could have been strong as a well-made ship, and down the road, much later, Billy remembers this wedge and doesn't let it go.


End file.
